Music to Inspire
by Sabverus
Summary: A few short crossovers, merging the Sabverus we all know and love with The Phantom of the Opera, a personal favorite of the authors. No spoilers. SnapeOC
1. Music of the Night

((Written by Lindsay, based around the song "Music of the Night" by the incomparable Andrew Lloyd Webber.))

Sabine stood atop the Astronomy Tower, her hands braced upon the stone rail, the curious patterns carved into the weathered granite cold and abrasive on her palms. The sky was clear and dark, stars twinkling bright as an autumn breeze blew in from the north.

Strains of music reached her ears, and while it had no place atop the lonely tower, the masculine voice that sang to her did not come as a surprise.

Strangely, neither did the pair of white, long-fingered hands that slipped around her waist, or the lips that trailed light kisses over her throat…

"_Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation… Darkness stirs, and wakes imagination… Silently the senses abandon their defenses…_"

Sabine needed no imagination to tell whose hand it was that splayed possessively over her midriff, or whose fingertips caressed her hair as he sang softly in her ear. She would have known the smooth, even tenor anywhere…

"_Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor… Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender…_"

He let his hands slide down her arms, drawing her hands from the cold stone, teasing the sensitive skin with his fingertips as he pulled her against him, commanding all her attention. He led her inside, away from the twilight provided by moon and stars, into the darkness.

"_Turn your face away from the garish light of day; turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light… And listen to the music of the night…_"

She descended the endless staircase; guided by his sure, masterful grip, and found herself in the dungeons. They had changed… The light of countless candles flickered upon the walls, and the enigmatic, sourceless music had followed them to the vaults beneath the castle.

She shut her eyes and let him hold her, listening as he sang to her, each syllable a loving caress against her mind.

"_Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams, purge your thoughts of the life you knew before… Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar… And you'll live as you've never lived before…_"

Her spine tingled as his fingertips explored the planes of her back, and he smirked against her skin, kissing her neck as his touch rested heavy on her hips, holding her close, the air warm and sweet.

"_Softly, deftly, music shall caress you… Hear it, feel it secretly possess you… Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind, in this darkness that you know you cannot fight… The darkness of the music of the night…_"

And suddenly he was removed from her, at no great distance, but distant enough that her skin protested at the absence of warmth and touch in the chill hall. She looked after him, hazel eyes wondering and confused. Why had he gone?

There was music everywhere. Beautiful, hallowed music, so simple, so elegant and her fingers itched with the urge to bring it forth from an instrument, her voice and ear strained to find the tune. Severus – for of course, who else could it be? Though she had not spoken his name, had not seen his face till this moment; the delicate fire that followed his hands and lips as he drowned her in song was unmistakable. He stared at her, and, the barest of smiles playing about his lips, turned away. She followed him as he ascended a staircase; holding rich, velvet curtains aside as she passed, and the soft touch of the fabric brushed against her face, carrying with it a musky scent of age and sanctity.

"_Let your mind start a journey to a strange new world,_" he invited, "_Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before… Let your soul take you where you long to be… Only then can you belong to me…_"

He extended a graceful hand to her, the other held out to a small room. The curtains cast aside, the little chamber contained a piano, pristine and inviting to the hazel eyes of one who knew how to play… And also… A bed? The singer raised a brow at his spellbound companion and, warm laughter flashing in his black eyes, vanished behind the drapes. She had only to look for a moment before his presence was found again, in the form of strong hands running through her hair and over her shoulders. "_Floating, falling, sweet intoxication…_" He purred quietly, taking her palm and pressing it to his chest. She raised her fingers to his face, not quite sure he was real. He shut his eyes, leaning into her contact. "_Touch me, trust me; savor each sensation… Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in to the power of the music that I write… The power of the music of the night…_" He backed away, leading her into the chamber that held the piano and pulling her to the bench. He took her hand and ran her fingers over the keys, and suddenly the urge to join the music, to create it, was almost overwhelming.

He smiled at her. "_You alone can make my song take flight… Help me make the music of the night…_"


	2. Point of No Return

((Written by Lindsay, based around "Point of No Return" from the soundtrack to "The Phantom of the Opera." There's a very special place in my heart for that song…))

Sabine stood in a cool stone vault, in robes of deepest indigo. No, not robes – the garment was more like a gown, with a low hem and belled sleeves, a high collar but open back. Its close, elegant cut flattered her willowy contours. And it was not a dungeon she stood in, but an underground cathedral, a sanctuary, with soaring arched ceilings and hundreds of flickering candles. As she listened to the emptiness, a man's voice began to sing. It was a strong, even tenor, and the throbbing passion in the undertones of that voice sent shivers up her spine.

"You have come here, in pursuit of your deepest urge, in pursuit of that wish which till now has been silent… Silent…"

As she looked for the source of the echoing voice, a shadowed figure stepped into the light, and she gasped softly.

Severus Snape, clad in black costume and opera cape, approached with slow, deliberate steps, nimble as a cat on the smooth stones. Suddenly she could not meet his penetrating black gaze, and she closed her eyes.

"_I have brought you, that our passions may fuse and merge…" _His hands touched her shoulders, fingertips trailing lovingly the base of her neck, down her arms to caress the delicate tracery of veins on her wrists; making her hands arch toward his touch, raising goosebumps beneath the velvet.

"_In your mind, you've already succumbed to me; dropped all defenses, completely succumbed to me…" _He whispered in her ear, his lips brushing her earlobe and the hollow of her jaw. _"Now you are here with me, no second thoughts, you've decided… decided…"_

She could feel the heat from his presence against her exposed back as he raised his voice again in song, low at first, but growing in intensity. _"Past the point of no return, no backward glances… Our games of make-believe are at an end… Past all thought of if, or when, no use resisting… Abandon thought, and let the dream descend…" _He let his hands glide down her ribcage, resting heavy on her hips. _"What raging fire will flood the soul? What rich desire unlocks its door? What sweet seduction lies before us?"_ Somehow his voice had become a purr, and here it rose again as he left the salute of a kiss at the base of her neck and pulled away. _"Past the point of no return, the final threshold! What warm, unspoken secrets will we learn, beyond the point of no return?"_

He had faded into the shadows again, and Sabine felt compelled to lift her voice in reply. _"You have brought me to that moment when words run dry; to that moment when speech disappears into silence… Silence…"_ She began, probing the darkness with her hazel eyes to see his form, her features slightly flushed as she made her confession. _"I have come here, hardly knowing the reason why… In my mind, I've already imagined our bodies entwining, defenseless and silent… Now I am here with you, no second thoughts, I've decided… Decided…"_

She found him, and beckoned. He stepped forward again, almost shy after his seductive display. Sabine continued her song, reaching for his hand.

"_Past the point of no return, no going back now; our passioned play has now, at last, begun…"_ She pulled him to her, searching his dark gaze, raising a hand to caress his face. _"Past all thought of right or wrong, one final question: How long should we to wait before we're one?"_

Splaying a hand at the small of her back, he pulled her against him; still silent, though his eyes were deep.

"_When will the blood begin to race?"_ She asked, though her pulse quickened even as she sang. _"The sleeping bud burst into bloom? When will the flames at last consume us?"_

At last he raised his voice with hers, holding her body close to his. _"Past the point of no return, the final threshold! The bridge is crossed, so stand and watch it burn! We've passed the point of no return…"_

He pulled her hair loose from its ties, burying his long-fingered hands in the raven mane as he kissed her.

"_Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime," _He asked softly, running his fingertips through her hair and down her spine. _"Lead me, save me from my solitude… Say you'll want me with you; here, beside you… Anywhere you go, let me go, too…"_

Severus sat up abruptly, his eyes snapping open.

"Good God!" He gasped aloud, and swore. He'd _never_ had a dream like that.

Rubbing a hand over his face, he reached for a glass of water and drank it down as his eyes caught the dull gleam of the silver ring on his left hand. "Hmm."

_But really, now, _he asked himself. _The Phantom of the Opera?_


	3. Wandering Child

(( Eileen's. ))

The writhing form of Sabine twisted upon the fainting couch, her fingernails digging into her cotton comforter. Always upon the couch did she experience these strange visions...

_Inexplicably, the dream found her in the Forbidden Forest, hooded black robes fluttering about her ankles as she seated herself on a large stone, engulfed almost immediately by the season's fog. It frusterated her to think that she could not find her way out of the maze, and yet- she had no luck. Resting her head in her hands, Sabine tried to think, her mind as clouded as the air around her._

_"Wandering child: so lost, so helpless..." The gentle masculine voice caused Sabine to lift her head and examine the forest around. The voice seemed to come from all directions, although whether this was a trick of her mind or of the wind she couldn't tell. "Yearning for my guidance..."_

_Still, Sabine looked ahead, pressing a hand to the collar of her robes. "Angel or demon; friend or phantom- who is it there, staring?" Even as the words escaped her lips, the whisper carried to her ear:_

_"Have you forgotten your Angel?"_

_She drew a sharp breath, and the last note flowed even as she replied over it: "Angel, then, speak- what endless longings echo in this whisper?" A gasp escaped her as long fingers brushed the back of her neck, and the form of Severus Snape stalked slowly around her before finally dropping to one knee before her and gethering her hands in his._

_"Too long you've wandered in winter," he told her, "far from my far-reaching gaze."_

_"Wildly my mind beats against you," she replied bretahlessly, protesting his sudden forwardness._

_"You resist," he agreed-_

_"Yet the soul obeys!" Immediately she was pulled to her feet, and close to him- too close, in fact, and they sang together now:"_

_"Angel of Magic,_

_"I denied you!"_

_"You denied me..."_

_"Turning from true glory! Angel of Magic,_

_"-my protector-"_

_"-do not shun me-"_

_"Beckon me, strange angel!"_

_"Come to your strange angel..."_

_Still inexplicably short of breath, Sabine watched as Severus stepped back, the arms of both extending as she waited..._

_"I am your Angel of Magic; come to me, Angel of Magic..."_

_No! It wasn't right, it was too soon. Unprepared for her, the fog-covered ground opened before her first hesitant step, and she fell into the darkness after her grip on Severus' hand failed..._

_Darkness..._

Darkness...

It was dark when Sabine's eyes snapped open, her breathing laboured, as though something had been suffocating her.


	4. All I Ask of You

((Eileen's.))

Sabine was a widow.

This is what she had been told. It had been so impersonal, all of it. She had woken at her normal time, had a cup of coffee and read the newspaper, done some housework… she found that the crooked little house at Spinner's End was a nice place to live if you didn't like to clean, because the man living there was an insufferable neat freak. And Sabine had been a very mouse since the wedding, careful to make sure that he would never even notice that she was there unless he specifically sought her out.

They had been quite happy.

The letter had come at noon. Sabine could honestly say that she hadn't been expecting it- it was just another letter, to be put aside until evening reading time. Her husband was late returning from his mission (less a mission than an errand, actually, Dumbledore had merely needed a fact check to do with a few Death Eaters on the outer circle), and so Sabine settled at the bill-desk and sliced open the envelope with a sharp golden knife.

She went about the rest of the day as usual: supper was made and eaten, she bathed, dressed for sleep and crawled into the long yew bed- and cried herself to sleep for the first time in many, many years.

There was a dressing-table, and a large mirror, and a number of poisons lined up in the place of her perfume bottles. She never touched them, however, only gazed at her face in the mirror- she had aged, and her black hair spilled about her shoulders. There was silence, until…

"No more thoughts of darkness. Forget these wide-eyed fears; I'm here, nothing can harm you; my words will warm and calm you…"

The voice was deep and masculine, and sounded familiar on a strange level, as though Sabine had forgotten it once.

"Let me be your freedom. Let daylight dry your tears… I'm here, with you, beside you- to guard you and to guide you."

He was singing now. Sabine raised her eyes from the poisons.

"Say you love me every waking moment, turn my head with talk of summertime… Say you'll need me with you, now and always… promise me that all you say is true - that's all I'll ask of you…"

So they sang. The voice's face never showed itself; for all Sabine knew she could be imagining it. Yet, she sang fervently back to it, rising eventually to travel to the window and examine the pane as she listened to the utterings of her secret admirer.

"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime… let me lead you from your solitude… Say you need me with you here, beside you… anywhere you go, let me go too-"

His voice dropped to a whisper at the next word, and the woman was all too familiar with the desperation she heard.

"_Sabine!_ That's all I'll ask of you!"

Choking, Sabine found herself having to force out her part. Rather, her promise. "Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime- say the word, and I would follow you…" Accompaniment followed, and still she refused to lift her head.

"Share each day with me, each night; each morning…"

"Say you love me!" she begged the empty room, to be rewarded graciously.

"You know I do…"

"Love me; that's all I'll ask of you."

Her tears flowing freely, Sabine turned from her window and lifted her chin to meet Severus' eyes.

_Anywhere you go, let me go, too. Love me... that's all I'll ask of you._


	5. Phantom of the Opera

In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came… 

_That voice which calls to me, and speaks my name…_

Sabine could not tell if it was in sleep or in waking that she heard his voice, that familiar tenor that sent thrills up her spine, rich and purring, such passion in the voice that her blood and nerves contrived to break her will before even a question was asked… or command given. Were she dreaming, it would not have been the first time he had visited her, but this time seemed different, so real was the connection. But whichever it was, in slumber or awareness, or on that threshold of twilight between the two, she heard him singing to her.

And do I dream again, for now I find 

_The Phantom of the Opera is there, inside my mind…_

Severus stirred slightly, the ghost of a purr sounding from deep within his chest, expressing his pleasure in the darkness and in the control that he so relished over her. He knew that in the light of day, when they stood as equals on the field of intellect and talent, he would never be dominant over her, but in the shadows of the night, when music and the passion of the heart held more sway, she would submit to him… And that was enough to sate the lust he held for power – and other things.

Sing once again with me, a strange duet… My power over you grows stronger yet… 

She couldn't trust him. She shouldn't trust his black eyes, focused so intently on that which he knew he should not have, their heat almost intense enough to burn. But she gave herself over to him nonetheless… Music was her weakness, and the first step to her intoxication, and thus, surrender. There truly was no way to escape this darkness.

And though you turn from me, to glance behind… The Phantom of the Opera is there, inside your mind… 

He was not a handsome man. He was disliked, rejected, even hated for his wanton cruelty and yes, his dominance. Suspected for his mastery of his art. Yet seldom was it that she was seen without him, or that he was not on her mind, in her thoughts, taking over her subconscious.

Those who have seen your face draw back in fear… 

_I am the mask you wear…_

He stroked her face with his fingertips, and she leaned into the touch, the small act of supplication his intention, reminding her of who, exactly, held her in thrall.

It's me they hear… 

Her voice freed by touch, she joined his song, the strange music that seemed to follow her constantly very real now in her ears.

Your spirit and my voice, in one combined… 

_The Phantom of the Opera is there, inside my mind…_

Her back to him, he pulled her close against him and, trailing his lips over her neck, whispered a single command into her waiting ear.

"_Sing for me, my angel."_


	6. Learn to Be Lonely

_Child of the wilderness_

_Born into emptiness..._

Severus wandered aimlessly in the woods, his legs, long and lanky even for a child of ten, growing slightly tired. He must have been more than three miles from the manor that he called home, though the place grew more like a prison daily. When he was young, he remembered, there was at least a clinical distance between himself and his mother, almost as if she prevented herself deliberately from growing too close to him. But now, since father had been attending the meetings which grew ever more frequent, every time the woman turned her eyes on her child, there was a look of utter sorrow and abject horror upon her thin, delicately boned face. Sorrow at what had become of her life, horror at what the boy had to witness, and what he might become. Tobias Snape had never been a kind man, the cruelty he showed toward his family had always been a part of their everyday life, but as Severus grew older, the screams, the beatings, only grew worse. He preferred to call the woods his home, where he could find herbs, roots, and plants that had a purpose... To create concoctions that would ease pain, lend power, and perhaps help him sleep at night.

_Learn to be lonely, _

_Learn to be your one companion..._

Of course, he had no friends. He was a strange child, quiet and introverted and intellectual, dark in spirit and with no inkling of the purpose which lay behind simple play. None of the other children that lived a fair distance off wanted to approach the dark, forboding manor, and frankly, Severus did not blame them. Perhaps he was better off alone. Perhaps in time, he would become as dangerous as the tyrant that reigned over Dartmoor.

_Who will be there for you? Comfort and care for you?_

_Learn to be lonely_

_Learn to find your way in darkness..._

He walked a narrow path, between avoiding his father's wrath and longing to be more like the man. It was a sickening thought, for even at that tender age Severus could see the evil in his father. It was an almost tangible presence that sent cold chills crawling up his spine at the sound of his father's voice. But he thought that, were he more like the man, the father would somehow find reason to see less fault in the son, less weakness. In any case, that darkness was in his blood. Was there even any point in trying to escape it? He was doomed to the same existence.

_Never dreamed, out in the world_

_There are arms to hold you_

_You've always known_

_Your heart was on its own..._

His mother never touched him. No one did, except those times when his father's hand was raised in anger. It was as if he carried a sickness, some defect that inspired others to keep their distance. As if he was a caged animal on display. As if he, a child, was something to be feared.

He reached the edge of the woods, and found himself staring up at the forboding manor. He heard no shouts from within, no sound of crashing furniture or feminine weeping, and so he knew that at last his father had grown weary of his torments and had retired. Thus, it was safe to return... For the time being. With a heavy heart, Severus took another step away from the woods, toward home.

_So laugh in your loneliness, child of the wilderness_

_Learn to be lonely_

_Learn how to love life that is lived alone._


	7. Think of Me

((Lindsay's.))

"This really is uncharacteristically selfish of you, Sabine." Severus said quietly. He felt low and base, appealing to the woman's sense of guilt, but he had tried every other method his clever mind could devise of convincing her to let him go. Not forever, no, never forever – he could not bear to leave her. But he had a mission, assigned him by Dumbledore and the Order, and he would not allow her to play his assistant this time.

"Selfish?" She ground out through gritted teeth. "Severus, you are never here. Never. Perhaps you should march up to the Dark Lord and enlighten him as to his selfishness… He certainly spends more time with you than I do."

"You're being dramatic." He said quietly, and bent to kiss her. She turned away coldly, and sighing softly, he placed a gentle kiss on her brow before turning away to close a small bag and put on his cloak.

Only when he had shut the door and stood in the hallway, fighting the last battle with himself to continue on down that cold, empty corridor, did he hear her voice behind him.

_Think of me,  
Think of me fondly  
When we've said goodbye…  
Remember me,  
Once in a while  
Please, promise me  
You'll try  
We never said our love was evergreen  
Or as unchanging as the sea  
But, if you can find a moment  
Spare a thought for me_

Think of me,  
Think of me waiting  
Silent and resigned  
Imagine me  
Trying too hard  
To put you from my mind  
Recall those days,  
Look back on all those times  
Think of the things we'll never do  
There will never be a day when  
I won't think of you…

We never said  
Our love was evergreen  
Or as unchanging as the sea  
But if you can still remember  
Stop and think of me

Turning about, Severus splayed his palm on the door, leaning his head forward to rest his forehead on the cool, rough wood. He couldn't go in. To go in would be to break his resolve, to forget about responsibility, redemption. He had his redemption, and it was so easy to find, but spending the night holding her in his arms did little to help others.

"I love you, Sabine." He murmered softly to the other side of the door, knowing she would not hear him, and turned his back, walking away.

Leaning in the exact same position on the opposite side of the wood, her frame limp with the weight of mixed emotions, Sabine whispered back. "I know."


	8. Stranger Than You Dreamt It

Seized by a sudden spasm of pain, Severus dropped to his knees before the fire in his rooms at Hogwarts, biting the inside of his mouth to keep his snarl of agony from issuing forth, and therefore making him human. It was his place to suffer in silence. And it was not his wife's place to witness this.

The war was long over. The dead had been buried, the losses carefully tallied and weighed, heads shaken over the entire affair as it faded into distant memory. Too distant, for his tastes - The Potions Master would have preferred that the war were never forgotten. Painful as it was, it served as a warning for the future, when individual men grew too close to dangerous power.

There were the nightmares, of course. Always the nightmares… They were his constant companions. But as the memories remained sharp for him, the brand on his arm grew worse. Accompanied by stabs of blinding, crippling pain, what had once been the Dark Mark spread across his forearm as ink spreads across the page when wet, thin tendrils of black snaking over his arm slowly, leaving a tracery of dark, ugly lines like spiderwebs across his pale skin. It hurt, like acid in his veins, and it was maddening. Apparently, though the Dark Lord was gone, his Mark still caused his followers misery as the ugly image followed its maker into oblivion.

Another wave of agony bent him lower, his spine losing whatever rigidity it had left as he cowered on the floor, cradling his arm, the stabbing pain spreading from the Mark through his entire body. It wasn't the Cruciatus, no, but it was a ghost of the curse, and the memories that accompanied the ache made his black eyes glisten bright in the firelight with shame and remorse. Perhaps this was rightful retribution - he was never meant to escape his past, even when it was dead.

He cried out, unable to muffle the animal sound in time, and almost as if on cue, the door to his study swung open, revealing Sabine, clad in her nightclothes and slippers.

_Who was that shape in the shadows?  
Whose is the face in the mask?_

"…Severus?" She queried hesitantly.

Rising to his feet with all the swift fluidity of a tiger, nothing in his movements belying the pain, Severus took a few enraged steps toward the woman and gripped her arm roughly, drawing her into the room and slamming the door.

_...Damn you  
You little prying Pandora  
You little demon  
Is this what you wanted to see?  
Curse you, you little lying Delilah  
You little viper  
Now you cannot ever be free  
Damn you, curse you..._

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" His snarl was venomous, dangerous, and the look in Sabine's hazel eyes as she met his twisted expression showed her fear.

"I live here." She snapped, but the expression did not go away.

That fear… Too familiar. The instant he saw it he let her go, stepped back. Part of him wanted to apologize, but pride refused to let him as he held his own arm, his grip as tight as a tourniquet.

_Stranger than you dreamt it  
Can you even dare to look, or bear to think of me  
This loathesome gargoyle   
Who burns in hell, But secretly yearns for heaven  
Secretly, secretly...  
Oh Christine..._

"What are you doing here?" He repeated quietly, ignoring the fact that she had walked in on him in a moment of crippling pain, treating her impromptu visit as merely an invasion of privacy.

"I'm sorry," she replied. "I thought I heard something…" Her response was lame, she knew, but concern was addling her brains. "Is there anything I can do?"

A sudden inhalation of breath, like a hiss, marked another spasm of pain as Severus  
turned his eyes on her desperately. "It hurts."

_Fear can turn to love  
You'll learn to see, to find the man behind the monster  
This repulsive carcass  
Who seems a beast but secretly dreams of beauty,  
Secretly, secretly...  
Oh, Christine..._


End file.
